Suddenly, my heart began to flutter.
‘Why am I feeling this way?’
Ren leaving her house should have been good news.
It was news that she no longer needed to protect him, so she should have felt relieved.
‘Grandmother is trying to ease my burden and resolve my anxiety.’
How could she not understand Vireta’s intention to take on this troublesome task?
Sharti rubbed her chest under the blanket.
Despite her grateful and relieved thoughts, something still felt off.
‘He’s leaving with Grandmother Vireta, so there’s no need to worry.’
Vireta had always been perfect except for one occasion, and true to her mercenary background, she never left loose ends.
Since Ren had seen Sharti and her grandchildren’s faces, Vireta would surely educate him well to prevent any future problems.
“So I hope you can think of this positively.”
“……”
Unlike Sharti, who felt conflicted by her unsettled feelings, Ren seemed unburdened and happy.
Perhaps because of this, Sharti’s mood sank even further.
She felt frustrated with herself for receiving this news so glumly when she would have welcomed it just days ago.
“About talking with me. Even if it’s just for one day. Don’t feel pressured, just think of it as practice, like just now.”
“……”
Sharti looked at Ren with an incredulous expression.
He seemed more interested in Sharti speaking aloud than in Vireta’s proposal.
‘Is he not concerned about Grandmother’s offer because he’s already made up his mind?’
Perhaps he was talking about practice for Sharti’s sake, since she would be left alone.
‘…At least he’s thinking about me.’
Sharti suppressed her increasingly irritated feelings.
She lacked the composure to process this sudden news while still feeling feverish.
Sharti forced her drooping lips to curve upward.
Though hidden by her hood, she wanted to congratulate him with sincerity.
<I’ll finish your clothes quickly.>
“…Clothes?”
Ren furrowed his brow.
Ren leaned forward slightly and intensely stared at Sharti’s palm.
He tilted his head this way and that before shifting his gaze to look at Sharti directly.
“I’m wondering if I read that correctly.”
<You’ll need thick clothes if you’re going to travel with Grandmother Vireta.>
Ren sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling dramatically.
He placed both hands on the bed and hung his head low.
“…So you’re sending me away.”
“…?”
Sharti couldn’t hear what he muttered to himself.
Ren raised his head at an angle.
“I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but I got scolded badly.”
“…?”
“That old woman hit me here, saying I should first learn how to have a conversation.”
Ren brushed up his bangs, speaking without emotion but with some exaggeration.
His forehead was still slightly reddish from Vireta’s strike.
Sharti opened her mouth in surprise.
‘Are you okay?!’
She had heard countless complaints about how being hit by Vireta made your bones ring, even if you looked fine on the outside.
When Sharti reached out her hand, Ren promptly offered his forehead.
After confirming Sharti’s reaction, Ren cleared his throat and began to express his grievances.
“I just spoke to her the way I speak to you.”
“……”
“Then I got scolded, and that old woman hit me multiple times.”
Sharti closed her mouth, at a loss for words.
Vireta disliked ill-mannered people and refused to associate with those who lacked proper etiquette.
And in Vireta’s eyes, Ren would have qualified for both.
‘I shouldn’t have let him continue with the informal speech.’
Perhaps allowing him to use casual speech due to his memory loss had been the root of the problem.
She hadn’t expected him to use the same attitude toward adults.
Sharti reflected on her mistake with slightly clouded eyes.
<If you’re going to travel with Grandmother Vireta, you need to be careful with your words.>
He would need to use honorifics and respond properly at all times.
That applied not just with Vireta but with everyone else too.
‘Since Ren looks intimidating, he needs to change his first impression through conversation.’
Ren’s first impression was that of an intimidating person with short, rigid speech, but in reality, his actions showed kindness and consideration.
He was someone who knew how to express gratitude and apologize, who worried about others and tried to be helpful.
Surely Ren could gain favor if he just changed his attitude a little.
“I suppose I need to practice to improve.”
Ren showed enthusiasm, seemingly aware of his problem.
“So it would be good if we could be practice partners for each other.”
“…?”
No matter what the topic was, it always ended the same way.
By now she should have noticed his scheme, but Ren gave her no room to maneuver.
“Those soldiers might come looking again. I don’t know how long I’ll have to pretend to be a runaway slave with a broken head.”
Sharti nodded, apparently convinced, and Ren smiled briefly before hiding it.
“So I need practice to appear as a perfect runaway slave. Especially when dealing with my master.”
“……”
“Don’t you think so? Master?”
Sharti just blinked blankly.
Naturally, “master” was a title far removed from Sharti’s life.
It wasn’t a title she would ever use or hear.
Perhaps that’s why Sharti’s cheeks quickly reddened in embarrassment.
<You don’t have to call me master.>
“If we don’t practice perfectly, that old woman might hit me again.”
Sharti hesitated at his shameless counterattack.
With Vireta, that was highly probable.
As Sharti considered this seriously, Ren sat down by the bed to meet her eye level.
“Even if it’s not pretending, not speaking informally was our first promise anyway.”
Sharti let out a hollow laugh.
Wasn’t that a promise he only remembered when it was convenient?
But soon her mind became calm.
‘Let’s have a conversation…’
For her, conversation meant writing on her palm.
Her voice was a weapon, and using it in front of others was only to intimidate them.
Even that had been reduced to brief murmurs under the blanket on thundery days since settling in the village.
‘He wants me to let him hear my voice.’
Sharti clutched her blanket.
It was a simple thing. Just put strength in your throat and make a sound. One might wonder why she was agonizing over it.
But it was humiliating.
Revealing the terrible flaw she had acquired after losing her normalcy, receiving reactions of disgust and contempt rather than ridicule—these had been etched into her as wounds.
“Sha-“
A large, rough palm covered her pale hand gripping the blanket.
When Sharti reflexively pushed it away, he offered his palm instead.
<I’m sorry for always asking for help when I only receive from you.>
Ren’s thick index finger wrote large letters on his rough palm.
<If you don’t want to speak, you can refuse.>
“……”
“Oh, was I too fast?”
Ren, not skilled at palm writing, patiently rubbed his palm and rewrote his message repeatedly.
Sharti felt the tightness in her chest loosening.
Because of this, her lips parted unconsciously.
“Why are you going this far?”
“……”
“Do you pity me?”
At those weakly uttered words, Ren’s lips moved slightly.
But instead of speaking, he used his hand.
<Why do you think that?>
“There’s no way a conversation is possible with a voice like mine.”
Sharti bit her lip hard.
Contrary to her feelings, words came out without passing through her mind first.
<What’s so special about conversation? It’s just making sounds, conveying words contained in those sounds, and listening to each other.>
“You met the soldiers. You heard Grandmother, Virena, and Tein’s voices. Now you know how different my voice is from theirs.”
<Why do you belittle your voice that I hear?>
“…!”
Sharti had many grounds for rebuttal.
Because everyone did. Even Vireta’s family couldn’t hide the sympathy that showed on their faces when they heard her voice.
Sympathy or disgust and contempt.
She had grown accustomed to it, that familiarity had become natural, and then expected.
Her ears weren’t damaged, and her hearing was normal, so without exaggeration, she simply accepted what was obvious.
But Sharti’s breath caught when she saw Ren angry at her.
<So what I’m saying is…>
Ren suppressed a groan and scratched his head vigorously.
This was the limit of his ability to continue calm palm writing.
“The thing is, Sha, I suggested practice because I like your voice. Pity? You’re a doctor, you can save people, you can sew, cook, and you have this house. If anything, considering everything, I’m the most pitiful one—just big in size with a poor brain that can’t distinguish between medicinal herbs and weeds, getting hit on the forehead by an old woman.”
Ren declared proudly.
He was so confident that even Sharti was inclined to agree.
When Sharti didn’t deny it, Ren felt a moment of self-loathing but stubbornly continued.
“It’s practice. Just practice. With nothing else to do for three days, let’s practice for just one day first.”
****
When Sharti’s stomach growled, Ren headed to the kitchen briefly and sat in a chair, holding his head in his hands.
‘What am I even trying to do?’
What had clearly started as an act to persuade Sharti had somehow become genuine, and he found himself making all sorts of excuses to convince her.
While emphasizing practice to Sharti, Ren couldn’t understand why he was going this far.
‘What is it about Sha that has me caught?’
If anything, his unexplained questions only deepened.
Could he truly confirm that his actions weren’t born from pity?
Wasn’t this all just a desperate attempt to leave something in her memory before departing from her side in three days?
“Am I really broken?”
Ren ran a hand over his face.
He needed to accurately identify the cause of his uncontrollable thoughts and actions whenever he saw Sharti.
That would help him make a clear decision about Vireta’s proposal.
“First, the meal.”
Ren clicked his tongue after checking the leftover meat stew.
Beyond being lukewarm, the stew had fat floating on top.
Ren took a spoonful of the chunks to check and immediately covered his mouth.
‘It’s cold.’
This temperature wasn’t suitable for a sick Sharti.
Unable to spit out food Sharti had prepared for him, Ren swallowed it with water and looked around frantically.
That’s when he realized what had felt odd every time he’d been in the kitchen.
“…There’s no stove.”
Then he just needed to find something to substitute for a stove.
As Ren was looking around, Sharti emerged from the bedroom.
When she staggered, Ren rushed to her side to support her.
“Don’t come out, just wait. I’ll prepare it and bring it to you right away.”
Despite Ren’s protests, Sharti determinedly headed to the kitchen and rummaged through her pocket.
What Sharti pulled out was a red magic stone.
“What are you going to do with that stone?”
Instead of explaining, Sharti struck the magic stone against the table a couple of times.
Ren watched with surprised eyes as the pattern on the stone became distinct and it began to emit smoke.
When Sharti placed the stew pot on the magic stone, the stew soon began to boil.
“What is this? A stove?”
<It’s a magic stone. There are various types, but this red magic stone contains fire magic.>
Sharti didn’t stop using palm writing.
Thinking that Sharti’s wall was as unyielding as ever, Ren swallowed his disappointment.
“Why use a magic stone instead of a stove?”
“……”
Just then, Sharti ladled the appropriately heated stew into bowls.
After placing his portion at the table, Sharti showed him her palm writing.
<Because it’s convenient.>
“I see.”
Chopping firewood and tending a fire would never be easy tasks for a woman living alone.
In comparison, the magic stone certainly seemed convenient.
Ren watched Sharti begin her meal before picking up his spoon.
Yet his gaze kept flicking toward the magic stone.
‘Must be expensive.’
Magic stones were costly, so she must have kept it as a special item.
Ren emptied his bowl thoroughly, lost in thought.
Then he considered what he could do.
With a more comfortable mindset, Ren rose from his seat.
“If you’re done eating, go back inside. I’ll wash the dishes.”
Ren turned his back, holding the bowls.
“……”
Sharti, who had also taken her cold medicine, stood up hesitantly.
Before Ren could start washing, she murmured to his back.
“Thank you.”
“…!”
Ren whirled around, but Sharti was already entering the bedroom.
The power of warm stew was indeed mighty.
Watching Sharti with lowered defenses after filling her stomach, Ren was about to strengthen his resolve when—
“We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m going to bed early today.”
Clack. Ren froze with the bowl in his hand, staring blankly at the bedroom door.
The temporarily and clumsily made bedroom door rattled.
Imagining Sharti standing behind the door, Ren rubbed the area near his solar plexus.
‘Is this broken too?’
